The Constants Keep Me Anchored
by lyo24boi
Summary: A request/award double-shot for FrostyKoala, 'The Constants Keep Me Anchored' is a realist-fic set in the future of the canon. Scott and Isaac are in their early-to-mid thirties and this explores just a small snippet of their life together. SCISAAC.
1. Double Dinner Date

**| HALF ONE, Double Dinner Date |**

"Scott?" Isaac called out as he entered their apartment.

"Hey!" Scott replied, his voice sounding from the kitchen. Isaac took a deep whiff of the air and smiled: Scott was cooking…and something good (a rarity for Scott as a matter of fact—the good part).

"Whatcha' makin'?" Isaac asked as he walked in and found Scott in his work button-up shirt. "Why aren't you wearing any pants?" he asked as he came up behind Scott, noting the man before him was wearing dark boxer-briefs and socks, but no pants.

"A recipe my mom gave me. She said it was one of your favorites at the house." Scott turned his head a little to allow Isaac to peck him on the cheek, never taking his eyes off of the large pan before him.

"Are we having company? That's a lot of food."

"Danny's coming over."

"Danny…Māhealani?"

"Yeah, he's in town visiting his folks so he thought he'd say hello. I offered to make dinner tonight."

"Did you?" Isaac said a little unenthusiastically, walking over to the four-person kitchen table to drop his coat and bag on one of the chairs.

"You didn't check your phone did you?" Scott asked, picking up on the drop in tone immediately, not to mention his own heightened senses picking up on the looming gloomy emotion.

"Forgot it at Starbucks this morning. They're holding it 'til tomorrow." Isaac sighed. "You called to ask me about it, didn't you?" Scott turned and grinned at him confirmingly. "My fault then," Isaac admitted with another sigh.

"Rough day?" Isaac nodded. "Wanna' tell me about it?"

Isaac shrugged at first. But when Scott looked over at him again, expectantly, Isaac began his tale. "They're letting Kathy go. Well, they're cutting five of my co-workers; Kathy just happens to be one of them."

Scott placed the wooden spoon on the side of the pan and walked up to Isaac's leaning form before wrapping his arms around his neck. Scott leaned in and kissed the man's lips lightly before pulling back and looking deep into those blue circles. "I'm sorry. I know she's been your friend for what…eight years?"

"She was the one that welcomed me there."

Scott nodded before saying, "Shit," and running back over to the pan, smelling a subtle change in the sauce (one that an ordinary human wouldn't have picked up on). "Keep talking."

"No, it's just…it sucks. She's been there for almost 25 years."

"Maybe she'll bounce back?" Scott offered, though sounding a little unsure himself.

"We'll see." Isaac looked Scott up and down, his eyes raking a little slower over Scott's hairy legs and his pert ass. He smirked a little, shook his head and picked up his things. "I'm gonna' go get comfortable. Come get me when they get here; I might be asleep."

"Will do." Scott turned his head again and shot Isaac a smile.

"And Scott."

"Hmm?"

"Make sure you put on pants _before_ they get here."

Scott grinned devilishly and shook his ass a little, causing Isaac to roll his eyes as he sauntered off back into their window-less bedroom. He closed the door behind him and changed in the dark, stripping himself of his blue-tinted dress shirt and black slacks and falling onto the bed. He looked up at the dark ceiling, illuminated only by the small night-light in the bathroom, his eyes slowly and relaxedly closing.

| 3-D |

_Tap, tap, tap_.

"Isaac," he heard a voice say. It was familiar, but it wasn't Scott's. "Isaac, wake up."

"I, uh, I'll be out in a minute," the blonde replied, slowly lifting himself and rubbing his eyes, trying to force the sleepiness out of his system. He looked around, forcing his eyes to yellow to serve as a flashlight for his bearings. He stood and dug out a comfortable shirt and some longer pants that were suitable for the dinner occasion. Garbing himself quickly, Isaac opened the door to see a familiar, yet certainly changed face before him. "Danny?"

The brunette smiled at him, leaning against the wall perpendicular to the bedroom door. "Good to see you, Isaac," Danny said, putting out his hand to shake it. Isaac made a face and stepped forward, embracing his long-seen friend.

"How are you?" Isaac said after pulling back. "It's been a while."

"I'm well," he said, the pair walking back into the kitchen to see the table set and dinner about ready. Scott was, thankfully, clad in his pants again. Sitting at the table, however, was a man Isaac did not recognize in the slightest.

"Isaac, this is David," Danny introduced as the man rose to his feet. He was a taller man than even Isaac and he had dark hair that seemed to suit him well.

"Nice to meet you," David replied, speaking with a hint of a Spanish accent, though very subtle.

"You as well," Isaac said shaking his hand.

"Everything's ready," Scott announced from beside the stove. "We're gonna' do this buffet style so just grab your plates and let's get goin;' I'm starving." Danny smirked and grabbed his plate, David following him. Isaac picked up bot his plate and Scott's and handed it to him after pecking him on the cheek.

"Thank you for dinner," Isaac whispered tenderly into Scott's ear.

"Thank me _after_ you've tasted everything," Scott retorted just as silently. Isaac nodded and followed David in placing different parts of the meal onto his plate. As soon as he saw the entrée before him, he smiled, looking back at Scott as he definitely recalled this as being one of his favorites _mom_ made for him.

Soon, they were all seated around the smaller circular wooden table, barren of any tablecloth. "So, Danny," Scott began, "how's Madrid?"

"Amazing," Danny answered after at least shuffling his food to one side of his mouth. "It's, um, full of surprises." Danny looked at David and they exchanged a loving look.

"How long have you been together?" Isaac asked, directing it at David to try and make the more-or-less stranger feel welcomed. David looked from Isaac to Danny to Isaac again, a little nervous about answering the question given what he's heard about Americans and rampant homophobia (despite the bettering culture—though the 2017 evangelical backlash certainly didn't help things). "Oh, don't worry," Isaac confirmed, sensing the nervousness from David. "Scott and I have been together since high school."

"Oh, good," he replied, his body language clearly indicating ease settling over him.

"You didn't mention that on the way here?" Scott asked Danny, a little shocked. The former goalie only shrugged and Scott grinned, shaking his head before stuffing his face a little more. "So what do you do, David?"

"I'm a translator at the American Consulate in Barcelona. I work with many of the offices, including the Consul General."

"Wow," Isaac replied. "So…how did you two meet then? 'Cuz, Danny, you work at the embassy right?"

Danny nodded and shuffled his food again. "David was sent to Madrid for a weekend and I was part of the team David was working with. So somehow, I dunno,' we just kinda' hit it off."

Isaac and Scott nodded almost simultaneously and the conversation quieted only for a moment. "So, you two met in grade school?" David asked.

Scott nodded. "Yeah we, uh, well how much have you told him, Danny?"

"Obviously not a lot, Scott," Danny said, his face cautious and telling Scott to just move on from _that_ specific set of details.

"Well, Isaac was a bit of a troublemaker in high school," Scott pushed forward and Isaac choked a little, stunned that _this_ was the version he was going with. "And we, uh, we eventually became friends after working out our differences. Some unfortunate things happened and Isaac moved in with my mom and me. And I think that's when we kinda' fell for each other." David smiled back at him, finding that to be satisfactory and when he didn't push for anymore Scott sighed internally about not having to lie by any more omission.

"So what are you guys doing these days?" Danny asked, finding a perfect time to push ahead to more normal things. "Scott, you're not still working at the clinic are you?"

Scott nodded and Danny's eyes didn't blink for an extra second. "I actually took it over."

"Really?" Danny said, a third surprised, a third amused, and a third impressed.

"Yeah. I went to school. Studied. And when Deaton—my boss—decided to retire, he handed the business over to me."

"Wow…you really are an animal lover then," Danny said, admiring Scott even more.

Scott only shrugged. "It's nothing compared to what you guys are doing. International stuff and all. Or Isaac."

Danny and David turned to Isaac expectantly. The blonde swallowed a larger mouthful and took a sip of his water before answering. "I'm a teacher."

Danny's eyes bulged this time. "You're joking?" Isaac shook his head and smirked, taking another sip before loading his fork again. "At Beacon Hills?"

Isaac shook his head. "San Ramon Valley."

Danny thought for a moment and then smiled. "Seems fitting, given the mascot," he said, exchanging a knowing inside-look with the couple.

"Well there's that," Isaac replied. "Yeah I teach AP Psychology."

"What is AP?" David asked.

"'Advanced Placement,'" Isaac answered. "Basically means students can use the credits from the class in university so they don't have to take a corresponding course."

"So they are harder?"

Isaac nodded. "The school gives me a little leeway, though, since I have a Masters in Psychology and my turn-out rate is high."

"You're right, Scott," Danny began, grinning at the cook, "it is nothing compared to Isaac."

They all laughed and the conversation continued on. Even after they were finished eating—which Scott actually received kudos for. After placing their dishes in the sink, they moved to the living/family room and Scott dug around in one of the cabinets.

"What are you looking for?" Isaac asked from the couch.

"My dad gave me something," Scott began, "that I think is fitting for tonight. Ah, there it is." Scott retrieved as bottle of unopened Don Eduardo Anejo or blanco Tequila. "My dad passed away a couple years ago," Scott continued, sitting down next to Isaac and placing the bottle and four shot glasses on the coffee table, "but he left me this as part of his will. My dad was an FBI Agent," Scott explained for David's sake, "and he was part of a group that had dealings with the Mexican drug cartels. So when he was down there he managed to buy one of these. Have you ever had true Mexican tequila, David?" The Spaniard shook his head and smiled as he watched Scott pour. "We'll only do a couple of these…I don't wanna' tire you out too much while you're here," Scott teased, winking at Danny. They raised the glasses, toasted, and shot. And after four Scott finally resisted in pouring fifths and closed it up.

"Do you keep in touch with Jackson?" Danny asked, slouching back easily into the plush cushions. David closed his eyes and leaned his head against Danny's shoulder, letting the stronger liquor course through him.

"Kinda' have to since he and Stiles are together," Scott answered, he, too, sitting back against the couch. Isaac was out cold against the arm rest of the corner-sofa.

"He's with Stiles? Where have I been?"

"In Spain," Scott answered, grinning stupidly at his not-so-joke. "Yeah, he, uh, he and Jackson hooked up when Stiles was studying abroad. They've been on an off but this time it looks like it's gonna' stick. Haha…stick."

"Damn," Danny said. "That's…wow…"

"I was a little stunned when he told me. But I think he was just as stunned when I told him about Isaac and me. Or…when he found us together, I mean." Scott smiled stupidly again, recalling _that time_ in the back of Stiles' jeep (a jeep contains sound better than a camping tent).

"Do you still keep in touch with Allison?" Danny asked, clearly feeling out of touch with all things Beacon Hills.

Scott shook his head rather awkwardly. "Nah we, uh, we had a bit of a falling out. A couple years ago. Just more of the same shit, ya' know?"

"Yeah. I remember the fight in the locker room. After she found out about you and Isaac. Was it worse than that one?"

Scott nodded. "Much worse."

The conversation didn't carry on much longer after that. The long days for all four of them (work for the host-couple, the jet-lag for the guest-couple) certainly wore them out and the tequila was just that extra little push to put them all out. So after it was confirmed that David had fallen asleep, too, Scott forced himself up and called them a cab and offered that they could pick up their rental in the morning (or afternoon). So Danny agreed and in a relatively short time, Danny and David were gone and Scott was urging Isaac to come to bed with him. Only after Scott gave up did Isaac force himself up and he zombie-walked himself back into the bedroom, falling face first on his pillow and snuggling up against Scott's welcoming form.


	2. Bed Days and Brunch

**| HALF TWO, Bed Days and Brunch |**

Scott's eyes slowly opened, his consciousness returning to him even slower. It was like he was in a hotel: the room was barely lit, he was sunk deep into the center of the mattress, and a fluffy set of coverings lay all the way up to his neck. He smiled as he snuggled deeper into the smush, reaching behind him only to _not_ find Isaac there.

He rolled over and saw that, yes, Isaac was gone from the bed—but recently. The spot where he curled up behind Scott was still warm. Scott listed his torso up by an arm when the door to their bedroom opened. There his beauty stood carrying a tray, clad in absolutely nothing. Scott grinned and Isaac smirked back at him. "Morning," Isaac said.

"Good morning indeed," Scott said, still dressed in yesterday evening's clothes. He checked Isaac's body up and down, marveling in the sight before him. Isaac walked over and leaned down, kissing him as he gently rested the tray on Scott's lap. Scott slapped his ass, Isaac yipping and Scott laughing into their kiss. Isaac pulled up and slid between the sheets next to him, sliding the tray over so it was equally resting on their thighs.

Resting on the tray were two plates—each settled with two slices of French toast—a smaller plate with bacon, a dipping bowl filled with syrup, and one glass of orange juice. "Extra cinnamon, just like your mom makes it."

"Thanks, mom," Scott teased, bumping his shoulder into Isaac's.

"Stiles called by the way," Isaac said just before stuffing his face.

"Did he?"

"Said to call him sooner rather than later," Isaac said through chewing, a dribble of syrup slipping between his lips and down his chin. Scott leaned over and licked it up, pulling back and seeing Isaac with a weirded-out face.

"What?"

Isaac just rolled his eyes and swallowed. "You're just…"

"What?" Scott repeated, his grin widening.

"Eat your damn breakfast," Isaac just said, chomping into a piece of bacon. Scott leaned over and pecked his cheek before cutting into his French toast. They ate rather silently during the rest of the meal, awkwardly bumping each other's hands as they both went for the orange juice at the same time; Isaac ceded it and returned the licking-favor when orange ran down Scott's chin. Scott laughed and passed Isaac the near-empty glass as he finished his last bit of toast.

"I needed that," Scott finally said, leaning back into the pillow and rubbing his stomach.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Isaac replied, moving to get up.

"Stay," Scott said, hooking their arms. "It's Saturday."

"_You_ need to call Stiles," Isaac retorted and unhooked himself, grabbing the tray and standing up. "I'm gonna' clean everything up. Talk to him and when you're done, come find me."

Scott nodded and leaned over onto his side grab his cell phone from the nightstand. He selected Stiles' number and let the phone do the rest.

| BD&B |

When Scott found Isaac again, the blonde was glowing beneath the heavy sun of their bay window. He was seated on their couch, reading the second installment of Stephenie Meyer's _Children of the Moon_ series, still as naked as he was two hours ago. "How is it?"

"Meh," Isaac replied.

Scott lifted Isaac's outstretched legs on the couch, sat down, and placed them back on top of his lap. "And yet you're still reading it."

"It's just interesting to see fictional interpretations of us. There's actually some interesting ideas in here. Some things _I'd_ like to have. But once again, the storyline is kinda'…eh."

"We don't shimmer and glow do we?"

Isaac grinned. "No, we don't." He placed the book pages down and looked up at Scott. He was changed out of last night's clothes into something fresh and he had a mixed face: half pensive, half content. "How's Stiles?"

"He's doing alright. He and Jackson had a bit of a fight last night but it sounds like they made up."

"What else is new?"

"Right? They're getting a new place. A bigger one."

"Why?"

"One of Jackson's packmates needs a place to live. I don't really know the details but it sounds like their alpha isn't really the hey-I-need-help-type."

"Like Derek."

"Like Derek," Scott reaffirmed. "Anyways, they're getting a bigger place and from Stiles said I think it's closer to his office."

After Scott didn't continue, Isaac pressed him further. "So…what else?" Scott only shrugged. "You were on the phone for almost half of this book; what else?"

"Nothing, I just…they're moving a little fast and making decisions that…I dunno?'"

"What is it, Scott? They're not getting married, are they?" Isaac said, his tone suddenly changing.

"No, no," Scott said, laughing. "But…" Scott didn't finish and sighed.

"What. Is. It?"

"You know how Stiles is the godfather of one of his friend's kid?" Isaac nodded. "Well, his friend is having some legal trouble and if worse comes to worse, Stiles might end up raising the kid."

"Oh," Isaac replied, knowing where this was going.

"Yeah." They sat there quietly for several minutes, neither making eye contact but both stealing a concealed glance at the other when the other wasn't looking.

"I'm gonna' put something on," Isaac said, getting up and closing his book, leaving it bookmark-less on the coffee table. He walked into the bedroom and cracked the door behind him. Scott sighed again and sunk back into the couch, letting his head fall back onto the cushion. He closed his eyes and consciously controlled his breathing.

| BD&B |

Isaac didn't come out of the bedroom for at least an hour. When he did, he was dressed like he was ready to go out. His reddened eyes, however, spoke otherwise. "That new _Indiana Jones_ movie came out today. It starts in an hour."

"Isaac, I—"

"Scott, I really don't want to talk about it right now. I just…I just wanna' enjoy today. It's been a rough couple days and I just…what are you—?" Scott just walked up to him and wrapped his arms around Isaac. He breathed out heavily against Isaac's neck and nuzzled in.

"Okay. We don't have to talk about it. Do you wanna' eat at the theater or grab something quick?"

Isaac resigned and returned the gesture, kissing into Scott's hair and swaying them a little. "Why are you always so damn understanding?"

Scott just shrugged. "At the theater or something quick?"

Isaac snorted into Scott's threads and squeezed him tight. He pulled back and kissed Scott's lips only once. "Thank you…you're…Jesus, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You're not answering the question," Scott teased, grinning up at him.

"Something quick," Isaac said with a smirk. "And let's sneak it in; like we used to."

"You got it," Scott said, winking at him.

| BD&B |

"Two for _Indiana Jones and the Eye of Life_, please," Isaac stated to the teller. The younger girl eyed the two guys and smiled, clearly finding both of them extremely attractive. Scott, the jealous type, slid up next to Isaac and tried to, as little obvious as possible, hooked his arm with Isaac's and rested his head up against the beta's shoulder, looking down at the tickets being printed. Isaac rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what Scott was doing and completed the transaction. They walked into the lobby and passed their tickets to the checker and headed for their designated theater. "If anyone who needs to worry about women getting involved, it's me," Isaac teased.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Scott replied as innocently as he could.

"I'm sure you don't," Isaac said skeptically.

Scott hooked their arms again. "I just want people to know that you're mine."

"I'll _always_ be yours, Scott," Isaac said seriously.

"You're not gonna' propose right here, are you?"

Isaac snorted and just shook his head amusedly.

They walked into the theater and occupied two seats all the way in the back at the top. Isaac remained there to save their seats as Scott headed back for the concession stand to pick up drinks. Isaac pulled out his phone and inadvertently picked up a conversation between two 20-somethings—clearly a couple.

"I thought the last one was alright," the girl said. "I thought he was better as Jacen Solo."

"You would like _Star Wars_ better," her boyfriend replied, clearly with a little disdain.

"Of course I do. The series is older and cooler. _And_ more original. Not to mention it doesn't have that horrid _Crystal Skull_ movie as part of it."

"Right, _Star Wars_ only has three horrid films. And besides, a movie made 21 years ago doesn't exactly exemplify an entire series. It's one film…unlike _Star Wars_."

"Ronnie, just because you're an archaeology major doesn't make you an expert on films."

"Right, because your—"

"Back," Scott said, pulling Isaac from his eavesdropping.

"That was fast?" Isaac said as Scott plopped down next to him.

"What can I say: people just love my face." Isaac just raised his eyebrow. "There was a kid who opened up a new line and, for 'some reason' gave me free drinks."

"Wow…just wow." Isaac took a sip of his and pulled out the two aluminum-clad burgers stuffed under his jacket in the seat next to him. "Now I feel like a total asshole for sneaking these in."

"I don't," Scott said, grabbing his burger from him and smirking at him.

"Of course you don't," Isaac teased.

| BD&B |

Isaac collapsed onto their bed and Scott fell on top of him. The alpha stole a number of kisses from his beta before turning his head and just resting on top of him. The movie had been 'alright' and 'better than the last one.' The burgers were 'dry as shit,' as Isaac had commented. And they were both ready to kill Ronnie after he whipped out his cell phone for the fourth time—Isaac even let his eyes glow when he threatened the kid, knowing Ronnie would just attribute it to some strange lighting or glare from the screen.

"Thanks for a fun afternoon," Scott said into Isaac's neck.

"No, thank you for appeasing me." Scott just nuzzled in further. "You pick the next movie, 'cuz I know those aren't really your thing. I just wanted to see Harrison Ford."

"Even though he was only in one scene?"

Isaac nodded. "I think this was kind of a retirement film for him."

"Maybe." They sat there for a moment, just breathing. Breathing in each other. Listening to each other breathe. Listening to each other's heartbeats. Feeling the different weights and feels between them. "Oh, by the way," Scott began again, "Stiles also mentioned that they might be visiting for Thanksgiving."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Stiles' dad's been bugging him about it. I don't blame 'im—it's been two years since he's been home. And we both know Stiles can afford it."

"Ain't that the truth. Rich bastard."

Scott snorted. "Well maybe if you gave up teaching and founded a multi-million dollar company, then maybe we could travel Europe and not come home for two years."

"Why do I always have to be the proactive one?" Isaac teased back. "You're the alpha after all; why don't you take charge for once?"

"You want me to take charge?" Scott said, lifting up his head to peer into Isaac's face. The blonde smirked amusedly up at him, almost daringly. "Maybe I will more often," Scott said confidently and leaned back down to nip and suck at Isaac's neck. Isaac closed his eyes and he arched a little as Scott ran his hand under the blonde's shirt and drove it through Isaac's shorter chest hair.

"You should take charge more often," Isaac said, lifting his arms above his head to rest them on the bed.

"I think I might," Scott retorted as he nipped higher, caressing the man's chest firmer as he made his way up Isaac's neck, to his jaw, and to his lips where their passion really ignited.


	3. BONUS: Little Red Riding Hoodie

**Author's Note**: So, for those who didn't notice, this story has been upgraded to M due to this chapter's graphic content. Please be advised.

**| BONUS ONE, Little Red Riding Hoodie |**

_Returning to Friday Night Across The World In London..._  


_Knock, knock, knock_.

"Come in," Stiles said. The door to his office opened and his secretary walked in.

"As your secretary, your friend, and a concerned citizen, go home, Stiles," she said, leaning against the door frame.

"Noted, Frankie," he said, smiling up at her. "Whoah, is it raining?" he said, looking behind him and out of the bay window. Frankie only shook her head and walked out, closing the door behind her. "Guess so," he said, arching his back in his computer chair and letting out an inaudible sound of stress-relief. He looked at his phone and saw that Jackson had called three times but of course, no voicemail. "What is so damn hard about voicemail?" he said to himself, standing and bushing off eraser residue off his jeans. Deciding to let Jackson suffer, he locked his computer and put it to sleep before locking up the classified documents on his desk in the safe imbedded into the wall behind the picture of the monster from the La Bête du Gévaudan legend. He lifted his red hoodie from the coat hanger and walked out. "Alright, you win. Let's go." Frankie smiled at him and slipped on her coat. Stiles locked the door behind him, the light brown door to the small office suite reading 'Room #613, STILTED.'

"Any plans for the evening?" she asked as they approached the elevator.

"Jackson's called but once again, no voicemail."

"You should cut him a little slack," she offered, "after all, being a major football star is hard work." Stiles gave her a look as the elevator dinged and they stepped into the lift. "How long's he in town for?"

"Just this weekend and then next weekend off-season starts and I think they gave him a couple months off. I dunno,' I have my own shit to worry about." Frankie smirked and the elevator dinged, the doors opening as the lift landed on the ground floor. "How 'bout you?"

"My mother's coming to visit tomorrow so I need to prepare the guest bedroom tonight."

Stiles nodded and they walked out of their building and stepped under the canopy. "Alright, Frankie, I guess I'll see you Monday, then?" She nodded and she put up her umbrella before stepping out into the downpour. "Damn," he muttered to himself and pulled his red hood over his head before stepping out into a hurried walk; he only lived two and a half blocks from his office.

But as he was moving, senses clouded heavily from the rain, his 'druid-sense' went off. He was being followed. So he moved a little faster, breaking out more into a jog. But the steps only got quicker, threatening even to overcome his own speed. So Stiles upped his, too, and before he knew it he was running to the lift of his apartment building. He jabbed hurriedly at the button and the elevator dinged only seconds later. He slipped in and pressed '4' before jabbing again at the 'Close Doors' button, just in time to see that unseen figure reach for the door to the apartment building. The elevator doors closed and Stiles sighed, leaning back against the back wall of the rising box, his hand resting on his taser-gun jammed in the back of his pants relaxing. When the elevator dinged again he quickly slipped out and scampered off to find the front door of his and Jackson's apartment.

"Stiles!" he heard as he fumbled with his keys. Stiles looked down the hall to see a drenched Jackson Whittemore walking towards him, clearly out of breath. "Jesus Christ. You don't answer your phone. You run away like a little girl. Fuck."

Stiles frowned. "I do not run like a little girl. And maybe if you learned how to leave a voicemail I would actually call you back."

Jackson huffed but decided to side-step the oncoming argument. "Look, I just wanted to see if you wanted to grab some dinner. Out."

Stiles, his ADHD taking the reins, immediately focused on food. "Yeah," he said, smiling, "where do you wanna' go?

Inside his mind, Jackson was shaking his head at Stiles' total mood shift; to be fair, he admitted, that is what he was trying to do. Externally, he just smirked. "Whatever, I'm starving."

Stiles just shrugged. "Dry off first, then decide?" Jackson nodded and Stiles finally, after finding the right key, opened the door to their apartment. They walked in and made their way to their bedroom, shedding their top layers—Stiles' hoodie, Jackson's rain jacket—on the way.

Jackson smirked again when he noticed that Stiles was totally drenched, even his shirt which had been not-so-protected by the skin-tight hoodie. "Mmh," Jackson grunted, his eyes grazing over the details of Stiles' firm yet skinnier back.

Stiles turned around smirking. "Miss me?" Jackson nodded fervently, stripping himself of his bottom-damp jeans. "I can tell," Stiles said, noting the raging boner evident even with the base of Jackson's shirt fallen just past his crotch. "Wait…are you wearing…oh my god what are those?" he said, pointing to the base of Jackson's briefs peeking out.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jackson said, walking over to their dresser and crouching down before the bottom drawer to search for new pants. Stiles followed, though, crouching down right behind him and wrapping his arms around him. One slipped under Jackson's shirt and ran along his defined torso while the other slipped under his brief's waistband. "Stiles…" Jackson groaned.

"Hot pink silk briefs," Stiles stated matter-of-factly. "With a lace border. If only your teammates could see these," Stiles said, kissing the side of Jackson's neck.

Jackson growled, standing up and bringing Stiles with him. He turned and forced his eager lips against Stiles'. He walked Stiles backwards, pushing the druid roughly onto the bed when the latter had nowhere else to go. "Take a wild guess as to who got them for me," Jackson replied as he clambered on top of him. Before Stiles could respond with another asshole-remark, Jackson smashed their lips together again, Stiles forced to gasp when Jackson began to grind down on top of him. Jackson's tongue immediately crossed over, delving into the hot cavity below while Stiles' hands caressed the athlete's pink-clad bum. Jackson ran his hands through Stile's short brunette locks, his knees planted on the bed just above Stiles' waistline.

"Mmmm," Stiles moaned into Jackson's mouth, the taller man's tongue now pushed past the athlete's lips between his fangs.

"Fuck, Stiles!" Jackson cried out as Stiles pressed his finger dryly with the fabric against the older man's hole.

"Really miss me?" Stiles said with seductive eyes and that asshole-smirk. Jackson, not one to have ever succumbed to the geek's antics, leaned down latched his lips on Stiles' neck just below the back of his jaw, threatening to pierce his flesh with his fangs. Stiles shuddered and only pressed at Jackson's hole more, their motions escalating to the point where Jackson was dragging his fangs on Stiles' skin and Stiles was rapidly jabbing his finger. Jackson began to plant taut kisses up the base of the man's neck, travelling up over Stiles' Adam's apple and up the side of his jaw towards his ear. "Need you," Stiles managed to moan out breathily. Jackson only nodded, not stopping his trail until his teeth latched onto Stiles' ear and dragged the flesh between them. "Hah—now!"

Jackson pulled up and smirked at the wanton druid below him. "I think _you're_ the one who missed me," Jackson said, an asshole-grin of his own spread across his lips. Stiles rolled his eyes and pushed Jackson to the side onto his back before getting up and tugging at Jackson's shirt.

"Off."

Jackson's shirt quickly met the carpet in a bunch and only seconds later did all of Stiles' drenched clothing: shirt, socks, jeans, underwear, and all. He got back on the bed and Jackson eyed Stiles' forward-pointing erection hungrily, his own still trapped beneath the silk.

"You want this inside you?" Stiles said directly, Jackson's eyes looking up into Stiles' before nodding, his nose flaring at the thought. "Turn over," Stiles commanded.

Jackson did just that and soon those sexy briefs were gone too and Stiles was leaning in. He spread Jackson's cheeks and drove his tongue straight between those tight rings of muscle. "Hahh—fuck…Stiles…Jesus…"

"You wanted this, didn't you?"

"Give it to me, Stiles."

"Mmmh." Stiles continued pushing his tongue in and out, only stopping to lap at Jackson's puckering hole with the full spread of his tongue.

"Stiles…please…" Jackson panted as he squirmed. Stiles pulled back and smirked. He reached over under the bed and began digging through a plastic bin. "Stiles what are you doing?"

"Looking for the lube."

"You put it under the bed?"

"Yeah, so?"

Jackson just rolled his eyes and eventually, after Stiles was almost toppled off the bed, the brunette returned topside. "Make sure you roll a con—hah, cold," Jackson stopped as Stiles pushed two fingers in.

"I've done this before, ya' know."

"Oh, I do…hah…"

"Yeah, not so smart now, Jacks?"

Jackson pushed back to the knuckle and his face peered around, his expression, while lost in ecstasy, clearly read, 'That's nothing.' So Stiles called his 'bluff' and pushed in a third, forcing Jackson to eat his unspoken words and crumble face-first back into the pillow. "Ngghhh, god…" he groaned again as Stiles curled his fingers into Jackson's prostate, causing the dirty blonde to grind into the unmade bed.

Stiles pulled them out and shuffled around behind the panting Jackson. Eventually he leaned up over the athlete and whispered into his ear, "Tell me you want it, Jacks."

"I-I want it Stiles," he breathed, swallowing. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Show me how much you missed me."

"I missed you, Jacks. I know you want it, but I want it, too." Before Jackson could insist on bottoming, a pointed tip pushed into him, not stopping or slowing in the least so he could adjust to the expanding object.

"Stiles what are you-fuck, fuck, ahh." The further the object went in, the more it slowly widened. "Stiles," he begged, his hands gripping hard into the sheets, his tightened face turned so Stiles could see it. But Stiles never relented and another inch more and _schlip_. "Fuck, Stiles!" Jackson cried, his outer most rings, tightening around the bright red plug now stuck in his ass.

Stiles smiled and gawked uncontrollably at his squirming lover. "Now flip-over," he ordered. Jackson's eyes opened immediately they flashed blue, the pleasure triggering it although Jackson would never admit it. "Flip-over," Stiles commanded again when Jackson only bit down on the pillow case. He nodded finally and turned over, groaning loudly when he accidentally landed on the plug and pushed it harshly into him. Stiles just looked amusedly at the wanton athlete, surely ready to burst at any moment. So Stiles picked up the pace, hurriedly slipping a condom over Jackson's unusually leaking dick and coating it with an exorbitant amount of lube. "You ready?"

"Hurry the fuck up; I'm not gonna' last here."

Stiles smirked and straddled Jackson, hovering and positioning himself over Jackson before leaning down and breaching himself on _his_ blonde. "Uhh…yeahh, Jacks." Once Stiles was seats all the way down, taking all of Jackson's rather lengthy dick, he took a minute to adjust after months of celibacy. But Jackson wasn't having 'rest.' He quickly interrupted and began to thrust, bending his knees and grabbing onto Stiles' hips as he bounced the brunette on his dick. "Jack-Jackson…shit…"

"I know…"

"Fuck…god you're so—"

"Stiles…coming…"

Stiles nodded and suddenly there was an extra heat inside him, protected only by the rubber between them. And Stiles, after one, two, three smacks into his prostate and Jackson pumping him with a slick tight hand, followed suit, coming hard across Jackson's sweaty defined torso, one shot even smacking into the underside of Jackson's chin. Stiles crumbled over, leaning forward enough to allow Jackson to slip out of him. "I…god I needed that."

Jackson nodded, his vision still fuzzy from the mind blowing orgasm. "Fuck…Stiles that was hot…" he panted. He brought his dry hand up to Stiles' neck and ran it up and down, sometimes through his hair. "Get this thing out of me, Stiles," he half grumbled half requested.

But Stiles only shook his head. "I've knotted you so I can't. It takes a while."

"Stiles!"


	4. BONUS: The Despair Keeps Me Frozen

**Author's Note**: This chapter has a mature and sensitive scenario of loss. Please be advised.

**| BONUS TWO, The Despair Keeps Me Frozen |**

"Wow…that was…wow," Scott expressed, Isaac rolling off of his sweaty back and onto his own back, his bare front free for all to see. "We're not going two weeks without doing that anymore." He looked over at Isaac and the blonde nodded, his eyes almost glazed over as he stared up at their ceiling.

"I'm gonna' go take a shower," Isaac said rather depressedly as he stood up.

"Alright," Scott said in almost the exact same tone, slight disappointment mixed in as well.

"What?" Isaac said, stopping to look back.

"Nothing," Scott retorted tersely, standing, too, but to slip his clothes back on. Isaac walked into the shower while Scott finished. "I'm gonna' go check the mail; do you want anything from Jacqui's?"

"No," Isaac mumbled.

Scott just shook his head and left. He took his time, his mind gazing in upon itself and what had just happened. The perfect day. The perfect sex. And now this. _Again_. When he got to 'Jacqui's Beanery' he ordered a latte for himself and sat down outside to enjoy the new Autumn evening. He breathed slowly, unable to shake his frustration very well this time, exacerbated even further by the fact that they made his coffee too damn hot once again and that he was almost ready to go back in there and complain when his phone buzzed.

'Where are you?' read the text from Isaac and that's when he noticed he'd been gone for 40 minutes. Instead of replying, Scott took one more sip and began to make his way back up.

"Hey, sorry lost track of time," Scott said as he walked back into their apartment.

"What were you doing; I was a little worried?"

"Just sitting; seemed like you needed some space."

"I didn't," Isaac almost snapped. Scott didn't say anything but his silence and look of disbelief said it all. He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch where Danny had been sitting the night before. "You don't believe me?" Again, Scott said nothing. "That's just wonderful, Scott. You know I don't think about her all the time, but thank you for putting Maddie back in my head."

"Don't blame this on me!" Scott said, standing up, almost spilling his latte in the process. "Forgive me for assuming that withdrawing into the shower had something to do with this morning. Forgive me for assuming that Maddie is running through your brain all the time because that's what I see."

"Great, now you're putting thoughts in my head. Would you like to put words in my mouth next?"

"What am I supposed to think, Isaac!? We don't talk about. You don't talk about. I'm not allowed to talk about it. And it's been like this for two years! I can't bear seeing the man I love eating himself up inside every goddamn day. Withdrawing from me. Turning away. Acting like nothing's wrong and not letting me be there for him. I get it, life wasn't fair. We didn't deserve to lose her. But it wasn't anyone's fault either. Not Fay's. Not mine. Not yours! It just happened. And we can't change that. But I'm losing you. I'm losing you so much that I can't even marry the man I love because he can't let me in. He can't let go. He can't see that while he's living in that dark moment in the past, I'm still here. With open arms. Waiting for him. Wanting him to let me hold him every time he needs to cry or bitch or fight. But I get none of that. There's just the dark shell. Every day. And I dunno' what to do anymore." When Scott stopped speaking, it was only then that it registered that Isaac's furious expression had diminished, that it was now burnt down to sorrow and tears. That Isaac didn't look hurt by what Scott had said, but that he couldn't believe that truth had slammed into him so hard.

"I—" Isaac tried to say but he couldn't, and Scott, being Scott, just walked up to him and took the blonde into his arms. Isaac unleashed his full emotions in that moment. Finally, _really_ weeping for the first time since their unborn daughter was lost to them. Scott cradled him, tears even running down his own face as he thought back to the beginning of that eighth month when the couple and Fay went in for a standard checkup. And then she was just gone. Maddie was no longer their soon-to-be daughter. She was no longer that ray of hope Isaac—they—had always wanted. She was gone. Somehow. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. And yet, it didn't matter. And they were stuck with no way to cope.

Scott pulled Isaac over to the longer sofa and sat against one of the arms so Isaac could stretch out, resting his head in Scott's lap. The brunette caressed his head, running his hand through Isaac's still-damp curls. Scott laid his head back, doing his best to clamp his tears and fight down that painful lump in his throat. "I love you, Isaac Lahey. I always will." Isaac only nodded, his hand squeezing into the base of Scott's thigh as those words forced him to let loose even further.

| ICE |

Scott awoke 30 minutes later by a buzz in his pocket. Carefully, trying not to wake the sleeping blonde in his lap, he dug his phone out and answered it. "Hey mom," he said, bringing his other hand up to his eyes to rub them so he'd wake up enough to talk. … "We're alright, how are you?" … "I'm sorry. Have you heard anything about the raise?" … "Well that's a good thing, right?" … "Just work. Oh, Danny came over last night." … "Yeah, Māhealani. He and his boyfriend. They're visiting his folks while they're in town but I think they go back to Spain sometime next week." … "Yeah, it was nice to see them It's been a while." … "Yeah, I cooked believe it or not," Scott said with a laugh. "You know me, I've gotten way better at it." … "Thanks, mom," he retorted, frowning. … "How's, Michael?" … "You guys doing okay?" … "Well, as long as he treats you right I'm happy." … "Yes, I still promise not to 'bare my fangs' at him." … "We're, uh, we're okay. Today was interesting to say the least." … "No, I just, uh, it was just rough tonight." … "Mom! Not that kinda' rough," he said, reddening. "It's just…Stiles called me this morning and they're taking in a little girl." … "Yeah, Maddie. It's just…hard," he said with a deep straining sigh. "I'm…handling it. I'm just trying to look out for Isaac, though." … "I know, I am. I promise. But he's just, he's devastated." … "Maybe. I'd be lying if that thought hadn't crossed my mind. But that's why I need to put him first. I've never seen him like this." … "No, I haven't. I don't wanna' force him to talk to—I know it wouldn't be forcing him. But I don't want to say the wrong thing and make it sound like I am. Maybe I'll propose it sometime in the future, but tonight I actually felt like I may have gotten through to him." … "I just…I guess I just snapped. We both did, but I really did. But he…something seemed to click. I dunno.' He just…it didn't perpetuate into a full-blown fight. He's actually asleep right here." … "No, I wouldn't have said anything if I weren't sure." … "Alright, mom, I love you, too." … "I will. And he loves you, too. Tell Michael I said 'hi.'" .. "Night." Scott hung up the phone and placed it on the armrest. He looked down and just focused on Isaac's steady heartbeat and breathing: if he were awake, he was a damn good faker. He let out another deep exhale and a small smile tugged at his lips. "I love you, baby," he whispered, combing his curls with his fingers once again.


End file.
